september is ashamedly sneaking and it floods me.
what with? warmth, changes, dreams.
i’m trying hard not to drown, to quietly swim, to feel the surface.
i’m afraid this wave of september will steal me and it will bring me to another shore.
however, till then, i’m going to enjoy my flooding, my drama, my courage and the evanescence of my memories and missing. i’ll totally devote myself to the striving of remaining on the surface and of facing up the pressure.
the water is following me everywhere i go. maybe because i’m afraid of it. or maybe because, unconsciously, i’m getting closer to everything that frightens me.
a thing is clear: i’m not sorry for anything anymore.
dear september, inundate me. please.